don't fix me
by Canadino
Summary: Masayuki doesn't want sweet sex with sweet nothings. Makoto/Masayuki


**Disclaimer: The only thing I own is the story idea and only some of the witty remarks. I own so little; so please don't steal.**

Background music: -

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When Masayuki decides to make the moves on Dr. Otori, he figures it's because his father was willing to ignore his existence along with his mother's for the sake of this woman. He can see the appeal – the boobs and the legs are _fine_ and he _is_ his father's son. But after a while he just thinks maybe it's because it isn't going to happen – she's already nearly crushed one family and she doesn't need a scandal such as him to blemish her promising career. She's twice his age (give and take a couple years) and wisely brushes him aside gently. When she leaves Suiten, he thinks he's going to be crushed, but in a couple days he no longer really misses her and only has the faint taste of what could be.

It's probably not love, and that's what makes it smart.

Forbidden love is really the best, he thinks. He can't have something, and suddenly it's the most beautiful thing ever. It makes his heart race, thinking about something he can only see but never touch; the very _idea_ of having someone chew him up and spit him out without any consideration is delicious. It's the pipe dream of hoping something will work out – the cynical effects of Tokyo.

It's the _wanting_ that excites him. The overwhelming desire that consumes him with the false sense of romanticism. He wants things to work out, he wants the happy, fluffy evenings, he wants the comfort of wrapping his arms around someone. But then, he _doesn't _want it. Because when two people find each other and it all clicks and love is going to prosper, it _doesn't_ – his parents barely speak as it is. So he holds on to the _befores_ and prays it never becomes an _after_. He doesn't want what happens _after_ love prevails.

So he's a masochist, really. He wants the thrill of the chase, but would prefer to die out before he sparks.

So _this_ isn't supposed to happen; he's supposed to realize his stupid, dormant attraction to Makoto and then they're supposed to dance around it like dumb birds before one of them just goes off elsewhere and it _doesn't happen_. Because…because Makoto doesn't like boys. Because they've got better things to do. Because neither Taro nor Michio would want to find them out. When he goes to Kurata for a friendly visit, Makoto isn't supposed to take him to the background of the bar where there's broken glass on the floor. He isn't supposed to shove him against the various cleaning supplies that dig right into his back and kiss the breath out of his lungs.

But he does, and it scares Masayuki a little.

No one is going to discover them and they're going to get away with it. He isn't going anywhere, Makoto isn't going anywhere, _it just might work out_. And this can't happen. Happy endings don't happen, he hasn't _earned_ one, so he grins when Makoto breaks away and he says, "I bet your dad wouldn't be happy about this."

It's a low blow, starting on a topic that is touchy for Makoto, but Masayuki feels the other boy resist retaliation so he twists the knife in deeper. "If he hadn't killed himself before, he'd definitely kill himself now to see his son likes dick."

It's _cruel_ and he doesn't really mean it, but Makoto throws him against the wall again, harder, and knocks the breath out of him. He should stop, Makoto has already said he has no qualms killing, but he likes it like this. He doesn't want to stomach sweet sex with sweet nothings. "It would crush your mother too, wouldn't it? She'd probably take another blade to the wrist."

He's provoking him, it's working. There's a low growl in Makoto's throat as he hurls the shorter boy onto the ground, pulling his blazer from around his shoulders so the only defense between his skin and the sharp glass blades is a thin shirt that tears right on contact. Masayuki feels blood and smiles. If he twitches, it hurts.

"You know it's true," he taunts, as Makoto stands above him fuming. "You wanted to get away from your grandmother cause you thought she was a crack, but you're pretty crazy yourself, Makoto! You're pretty fucked up." At this point, he thinks Makoto probably already knows it's all talk, since he merely sinks to his knees instead of beating Masayuki to a pulp. "You thought you might be normal now here in Kurata, but you're not, are you?" The glass in his back is starting to ache. "You just want to fuck me right into the ground, don't you?"

Makoto doesn't answer, but his eyes are predatory and Masayuki is momentarily thankful Makoto's mother is upstairs sleeping. She won't wake up even if he cries out. Makoto isn't doing it right if he doesn't scream. "Come on," Masayuki orders. "Let's see if you can do it this time?"

It's unceremonious, the way Makoto pulls his pants off. There's no foreplay, no words involved. Masayuki sees his underwear fly somewhere he'll have to look and he doesn't even have the time to turn back to look at Makoto when the dark haired boy thrusts into him without a single warning or any preparation. It already hurts like _fuck_ but the motion presses him harder into the glass in his back.

"Are you done talking?" Makoto asks as he thrusts again and Masayuki throws his head back and hits it hard against the floor. "Look who's all talk now." He strokes Masayuki to hardness and presses into him again. A piece of glass switches angles as his back moves against the floor and Masayuki hisses with the pain.

Makoto makes a motion to move him out of the glass's way, but Masayuki won't have any of that. "Don't think of moving me," Masayuki warns. It feels good the way it hurts, it hurts the way it feels good. His hands keep Makoto's at his hips. "Just _move_, dammit. _Go_."

So Makoto keeps fucking him into the ground, where the glass cuts more and it's _hard_, Goddammit. Somehow, Masayuki's so screwed up now he can come from these circumstances, because glass or no glass, Makoto can still reach that spot. He comes, and so does Makoto, and thank god they're in a cleaning supply closet. Oh, it hurts like hell now he doesn't have to think about Makoto in him, and when he sits up, there's a pool of blood where he used to be.

Makoto helps him find his pants and they sit on the boxes in the storage room and Masayuki has Makoto pick the glass out of his back. Some of the pieces have broken so it'll be a challenge to take them out. There'll be no talk of hospitals, and there are fresh bandages in arm's reach. Makoto tries to ease the shards out, but Masayuki tells him either to pull them out quick or he'll do it himself.

Each time the glass slips free, it reminds him this isn't normal, and there's still room for wanting, wanting for there to be no pain, wanting Makoto to be a girl, wanting them to get out of this damn place. Humans are programmed to hate pain, and he dislikes the feeling, really. So he can't want this, he can't make this happen, and it keeps him coming.

"Throw me down the stairs next time," he whispers into Makoto's ear at the bus stop. "Break my bones." It's domestic abuse, but he likes it rough, he wants it to hurt. Taro, innocent Taro, will want to know what happened to him, and wise Michio will avert his eyes and not ask questions. He likes the grip Makoto holds him with. It could crush his arm. It could crush his spirit. And that would be the best.

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Note: Hahahahaha why does my headcanon make Masayuki a masochist? Because it would be more interesting that way. Thanks for reading!


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